


O, Then, Dear Saint, Let Lips Do What Hands Do

by letitfillyoursoul



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends to Lovers, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Homophobic Language, M/M, Neil Perry (Dead Poets Society) Lives, anderperry, neil is romeo, trans Todd Anderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29691810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letitfillyoursoul/pseuds/letitfillyoursoul
Summary: “Maybe we could come out together, one day,” Neil says, and there’s a tenderness in his voice that a more naive person would mistake for love. But not Todd. He’s not stupid. He lets Neil hold his hand for a moment longer, savors the feeling of the other boy’s thumb grazing his knuckles, before removing his hand, and responding in a detached, blase way:“Yeah, maybe.”The five times Todd almost comes out to Neil, and the one time he does.
Relationships: Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 11
Kudos: 62





	O, Then, Dear Saint, Let Lips Do What Hands Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wordshakers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordshakers/gifts), [deathbysandblk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathbysandblk/gifts).



> quick content warning before reading: 
> 
> there is a homophobic slur (said by cameron) in this fic. it's in no way meant to be glorified, and if you'd like to skip over it, you can stop reading at the breakfast scene and pick back up when it's finished - not a ton will be lost! 
> 
> also, this is a trans!todd fic. it contains a moderate amount of angst (mostly pulled from my own experience), but i tried to avoid being too negative. i think being trans is a beautiful thing and i hope that overall this fic highlights that beauty, while also recognizing that it can be hard. 
> 
> finally, i want to say a HUGE thank you to emma and li, who are listed as the recipients of this fic. without them this wouldn't exist. special thanks to li for brainstorming the final scene with me and allowing me to literally pull lines that they came up with. 
> 
> there will be more notes at the end with references!

Todd Anderson spends so much time hidden away in the boys bathroom that he’s pretty sure his classmates think there’s something _seriously_ wrong with him. 

It’s not like that, he promises. 

  
To clarify, it's not all on his own volition. A lot of the time it’s by accident, like when Hager yells lights out and all the boys amble in such a way that draws him into the crowded space. Or, he decides to hide out there when Charlie and Neil are restless enough to run laps in his room. 

And when they’re all corralled into the bathroom after soccer practice, existing in a state so sweaty and uncouth that it must be scrubbed from them to preserve the Welton aesthetic, Todd always ends up in the corner, staring into the glossed over window. 

What he means to say is that he knows which sink has hot water and how many curse words are scribbled in each stall. 

He knows how this must look. Most of the kids in his year already think he’s a freak. It doesn’t help that he’s gotten good at listening, halfway down the hall, for the herd of boys to all return to their room from nightly teeth brushing. 

He thanks God that Neil doesn’t ask too many questions. 

Neil, who sleeps three feet away and lets his shirt ride up and has muscles without even trying. Neil who listens to Todd even when he speaks quietly. Neil who is bewitching and tenderhearted and genuine, and all of the other fifth grade spelling bee words Todd could think of. 

Neil who doesn’t know that every night he sneaks into the bathroom to take off his binder and brush his teeth. Neil who doesn’t know that he’s mastered the quickest shower in the world, just in case someone decides to wander in after hours. 

Neil who doesn’t know he’s trans. 

To be fair, no one knows. Except Nolan and the school nurse. His parents admitted him to Welton on the condition that he never tell. After Balincrest, and everything that happened there… Todd thinks that when they had found out, they had hoped he’d be a better son. 

His shoulders ache. When he breathes in, his ribs tinge with discomfort. It’s a miserable existence, not telling. It’s a dangerous existence. He knows he’s lucky. The fact that his parents agreed to let him start t still surprises him. He knows that it probably was to get him out of their hair, but still. He knows he should be more grateful that they didn’t disown him. But still. 

Above all, it’s a lonely existence, not telling. 

It’s a Friday night, and Todd is curled on his side, pen in his mouth, trying in vain to decipher a trig problem. Seated in the window, Neil is oscillating between reading _Angels in America_ and staring out of the window. The silence is thick, and every couple minutes Todd can hear the heavy trodding and shrieks of various gaggles of boys, followed by a loud shushing from faculty. He likes it like this. Quiet and ordinary and comfortable. He closes his eyes and imagines himself on a bigger bed, a full, or even a queen, dreams up a comfier window seat for his roommate. It’s as he’s getting daring, and wishing for an apartment and a cat for him and Neil to share, that Neil speaks. 

“Todd, I think I’m gay.” 

Todd bites down on the pen, hard, his eyes shooting open. A million thoughts are running through his head, but the one that squirms into the forefront is how in character it is for Neil to announce it like this. Slowly, he sits up. Faces Neil. He’s looking down at the play and flicking through the pages, laughing to himself in disbelief. 

“I’ve never said that to anyone before. Not even Charlie. I just can’t stop thinking about it. I don’t know why-”

“It’s okay,” Todd interrupts him, “I’m glad you told me. That’s so great, Neil.”

  
  
Neil’s shoulders relax and his face begins to resemble the boy Todd knows so well. Todd’s surprised, to say the least. Neil could have anyone he wanted. Hell, two weeks ago he went on a date with a nice girl from Henley Hall. Bought her flowers and everything. Neil’s always been old fashioned like that. 

Sure, he had wondered from time to time whether Neil was gay, but he chocked it up to wishful thinking. It would be too easy, he had thought. If Neil was gay then maybe there would be a chance. 

Right now, the chance feels scarier than when there was no possibility at all of Neil feeling the same. He pushes this aside. It doesn’t matter. Not right now, in Neil’s moment. 

“You’re not... Weirded out? About having a gay roommate?” 

“Of course not,” Todd responds quickly, “That would be hypocritical of me.”

  
  
It’s out of his mouth before he can even think of the consequences. 

“Oh. _Oh_ ,” Neil smiles, the soft kind that reaches his eyes. It takes everything within Todd not to blush. Or throw up. 

“Welcome to the club, I guess.”

  
  
“Anderson, you never fail to astound me,” Neil stands, and moves closer to Todd. Todd’s breath stalls in his throat as Neil reaches a hand out and _ruffles his hair_. Like he’s a kid, or a good dog, and it’s in this moment that Todd’s inner voice croons _God, I love him_ so loudly that he’s scared Neil can hear.

  
  
So, just like that, he’s in love with his gay roommate and he’s still in the closet and said roommate pats him on the head like he’s the little brother of a friend. 

Fuck. 

* * *

Todd really, really hates the trek to the cave.

  
  
Yes, Charlie splurged on engraved flashlights for all of the boys, so lack of visibility isn’t a problem like the first time (think: gargantuan oak tree and overgrown roots and Todd, splayed out on the ground with a bloody lip), but jesus he really shouldn’t be binding for this long. 

And he especially shouldn’t be doing what feels like amateur parkour in the woods with a bunch of dudes, all to go and sit in a claustrophobic cave. 

But he loves them all, and he loves the way the lamplight hugs the curve of Neil’s cheek. So he goes, and he keeps minutes of the meetings, and sometimes, when he’s feeling daring, he reads a line or two from his journal. 

Right now, he and Neil are trailing behind the other boys, and Todd is trying not to look too miserable, because he really, really doesn’t want Neil to get the wrong idea. 

“Are you okay?” Neil’s voice breaks through his thoughts. 

Shit. 

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine,” Todd says, shuffling forward. He can see the cave in the distance and he keeps his eyes fixated on the narrow entrance. 

“You look pale. Are you sure you’re good, Todd?” Neil’s voice is hushed, and he places a hand on his shoulder, “If you’re not feeling it we can go back. I’ll tell Charlie I have to puke or something. You know how he is about messes.” 

“I’m okay, Neil. Thanks,” Todd allows himself a small smile, and goes to move forward, but Neil’s hand is still on his shoulder. 

“Todd?”  
  
“Yeah?” Here it goes again, his breath hitching in his throat and his cheeks warming. 

“Your eyes look really pretty in the moonlight….” 

Todd feels like the pines and cicadas and moths and boys of the forest have all ceased their whispering. He swears he can feel Neil’s quickening pulse from his palm clasped on his shoulder. 

“Oh. Uh. Thanks,” Todd replies. His inner voice says _nice one, Todd_ because Neil breaks away, bashful. Why is he bashful? Why did Todd reply with the eloquence of a frat bro? He’s a poet, goddamnit. 

“Are you going to read anything tonight?”

  
  
Todd is glad Neil’s changed the subject, as they make their way into the cave. 

“I’m not sure. I brought a poem but we’ll see.”

  
  
“Todd, come on. Everyone loves when you read.”

  
  
_Everyone but me_ , Todd thinks, but he doesn’t speak it, because soon enough Charlie is begging for snack related donations and Neil is reading the introductory message. 

After a handful of poems and a _weird_ story from Cameron, Neil turns to Todd.

“Todd has a poem for us tonight, if I’m not mistaken!”

  
  
Neil grins, and there's a glint in his eye, and Todd can’t even properly scowl. The poets woop and Pittsie pats him on the back, and suddenly he’s being shuffled into the middle of the cave. 

“I, uh…” Todd starts. 

He pauses, and pulls the poem from his pocket. 

“It’s not mine. It’s a poem by Joshua Jennifer Espinoza. It’s called Autopainophile.”

  
  
Before Todd knows it, he’s reading the poem. And then, once he’s done, there’s a brief chasm of silence. He wants to run from it. He doesn’t want to look at any of the boys. 

“Jesus. I’ll drink to that,” Charlie mumbles, taking a swig from his flask. 

Neil laughs, “That was a really good one Todd. Thank you for reading.”

  
  
He can tell that Neil means this. He sits down, next to him, and listens as Charlie reads a ridiculous ee cummings poem so loudly the whole forest can hear it. 

On the damp cave floor, his hand rests close to Neil’s, and if a finger or two entwine, both of them pretend not to notice. 

* * *

It’s afternoon and Neil and Todd are sprawled out on the dock, reading _Water by the Spoonful_ together. In between scenes they eat grapes they stole from the kitchen and if Todd thinks about it, maybe Neil is being a bit friendlier than normal. Or maybe he’s just in a good mood, having just landed a part as Romeo in _Romeo & Juliet. _

Todd tries not to think about the beautiful girl that Neil will be kissing on stage. 

“Todd, you never told me why you left Balincrest.” Neil’s voice interrupts Todd’s staring at the clouds, and Todd turns slowly on his side to look at the other boy. 

Of course, he had told Neil part of the truth. His brother _had_ gone here. He _was_ that Anderson. He’d just neglected to mention that he hadn’t been able to go here before he transitioned. Or that life was hell at Balincrest. Or that he was one breakdown away from god knows what when his parents finally noticed and took reluctant action. 

So, maybe he hadn’t told the whole truth. 

“It was just… bad,” Todd shrugs obtusely, and reaches out to grab another grape. 

“Bad? Were people mean to you about being… gay?”

  
  
“Um. Kind of,” Todd is avoiding looking Neil in the eyes. He’s not lying. He doesn’t like lying to Neil. Neil, who’s like Abe Lincoln in his honesty. And also in being gay, now that he thinks of it. 

Still, he has to lie. At least a bit. He knows there are a handful of tentatively out students at Welton. Hell, Charlie flirts with anything that moves. But he hasn’t even heard a whiff of anyone else like him. And he knows what his family would say if he told. He has to remind himself that he’s lucky. He’s getting this chance. It’s his obligation not to tell, as much as he wants to sometimes. 

“Do you think it would be better here? If I were to come out?” Neil puts the book down and looks at Todd in a way that demands him to look back. To face the question. 

“I don’t know,” Todd answers, finally honest, vulnerable, “It’s scary for me too. But I’d be right by your side, you know? I know you’re usually the one looking out for me, but you can let me look out for you, Neil.”

  
Neil blushes. 

“Well, why don’t you come out?”

  
  
He’s avoiding it. Neil Perry is avoiding. Todd feels the fraying dock underneath him to make sure the world hasn’t turned upside down, or inward, or whatever motion that would make it possible for _Neil_ of all people not to face this. 

If Neil can’t face it, he sure can’t. 

“Again, it’s complicated. I want to I just-”

  
  
“Don’t know what people will think?” Neil finishes, and Todd can swear he’s closer, incrimentally leaning towards him. 

“Yeah,” Todd sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. His hand falls back to his side, and his fingers tap together to an anxious beat. He knows that Neil is waiting, no, _craving_ for more of an answer than this. He knows that Neil needs someone to look to for guidance. He wishes he could be a better example, as stupid as that sounds. 

Out on the field, a group of boys are frolicking around, playing a rough and tumble game of tag. The two watch them for a moment, and Neil turns back to the play, almost reluctantly. 

“Do you wanna read this part?” Neil asks. His voice is dull and Todd would be lying if he said he didn’t feel responsible. He ignores the churning of his stomach and speaks.

“No. I- I left Balincrest because some people found out about me. And it was bad. Really, really bad. I had to beg my parents to let me leave. I’m not saying this to scare you. I want to be able to tell you it’ll be easy, but I can’t. I just can tell you that… that if you come out I’m always going to be there for you. Even if I’m the only one.”

  
  
Neil is quiet for a bit, and Todd thinks he's made a mistake. He resists the urge to bring his hand to his mouth and bite a nail. Instead, he feels for splintering wood on the dock. Suddenly, a hand clasps around his own. 

“Maybe we could come out together, one day,” Neil says, and there’s a tenderness in his voice that a more naive person would mistake for love. But not Todd. He’s not stupid. He lets Neil hold his hand for a moment longer, savors the feeling of the other boy’s thumb grazing his knuckles, before removing his hand, and responding in a detached, blase way: 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

He avoids meeting Neil’s eyes for the rest of the day. 

* * *

It’s a week later when the topic is broached again, but not by Neil or Todd. It’s Cameron. Of fucking course it’s Cameron. 

They’re sitting around the table, and all Todd can think about is how he had to sneak into the bathroom earlier, and make an excuse as to why he was in the stall when he realized Stick was in there too. He’s trying not to be too hung up on it, and instead attempts to be excited that it’s Friday and a weekend full of mostly homework and some free time, all of it spent with Neil, awaits.

Breakfast is some pseudo-diner style awfulness, and Charlie makes an off color joke about how much gravy Neil is pouring onto his biscuits, when Cameron, in all his glory, speaks: 

“Wow Neil, you really seem to enjoy it… what are you, a fag?” 

It’s followed by a bark of a laugh on Cam’s part and a guffaw from Hopkins. The rest of the boys are silent, awkward. Even Meeks and Pittsie, who had been drawing out a map of the rooftop, stop talking and turn towards the quiet, as inconspicuous as they can be. Neil is still, he’s _so_ still, and the fork in his hand is paused mid-stab of home fries. Todd’s knuckles are white, his fist clenched. 

Charlie looks like he’s about to say something, but Todd shoots him a warning look. As much as he loves Charlie, he knows the guilt that Neil would feel over a fist fight between him and Cam. 

“What? What did I say?” Cameron’s brow is furrowed and Hopkins shakes his head, smirking. 

“If you have to ask-” Hopkins starts, but Todd cuts him off. 

“You should think before you speak,” He says cooly, before going back to his eggs. 

Next to him, he feels Neil’s body release its tension. Cameron mutters a half hearted apology and Charlie glares at him for a good while. Tentatively, under the table, Todd grabs Neil’s left hand. He’s thought about doing this before, in so many contexts. Never this one, though.

  
  
If Neil thinks anything of it, he doesn’t betray himself with any expression. 

Breakfast ends without any further interruptions. Knox, bless his heart, spent the rest of the meal attempting to break the silence with an elaborate story about his last date with Chris. Todd can’t help but notice the way Cameron is shifting in his seat, avoiding the others’ eyes. Good. He should feel bad, Todd thinks, and then for some reason he feels bad for thinking this. God, why does he have to be so sensitive all the time? 

Before they stand, Todd lets go of Neil’s hand. There’s nothing wrong with it, just a nice gesture between friends, but he doesn’t want to give idiots like Cameron any more ammunition. 

When they’re walking out, Charlie slows his pace to walk next to Neil and Todd. 

“If you want I can yell at him. Or beat him up. Whichever you prefer.”

  
  
Neil laughs, but it comes out hollow, “It’s okay Charlie. It was stupid.”

  
  
“It wasn’t stupid. It was fucked up, that’s what it was. You know my aunts are gay? And I mean, statistically one in eight people are some shade of gay, and I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I’ve admired a man or two-”

  
  
“Charlie,” Todd interrupts gently, “It’s okay. I don’t think he was being malicious. Just idiotic. It’s like he’s never met a gay person before.”

  
  
“I don’t think he has. Weird conservative family, you know? My neighbor goes to the same church as them. I mean, I think he thinks transgender people are a myth, or the devil. Or both.”

  
  
Todd’s heart drops, because the word has been uttered. He tries to keep pace with Neil and Charlie as they continue to talk about Cameron’s rumored home life and his weird mom, but he’s only half listening.

  
  
It’s not like Charlie had outed him. Hell, neither of the boys had even noticed the panic that crossed his face. But that was the problem. He wears this panic well. Like a second skin. 

* * *

“Todd, come here and read this.”

  
  
Neil is sitting cross legged on his bed, holding a copy of _Leaves of Grass_ and nearly gawking at the page. Todd moves closer, careful to sidestep the record player humming Erik Satie on the floor. 

The week had been tiresome, and he’s glad to have time holed up in a too small room, Neil by his side. Meeks and Pittsie had dropped in earlier to help with chemistry, but most of the day had been spent quietly, with stares out the window at birds and moving figures (and sometimes a stare at Neil when he’s engrossed in reading). 

He stands above Neil for a moment, and from this perspective, sees the faint freckles that sprawl across his collarbone in a new light. Todd instinctively tugs at his shirt, his fingers making their way to the straps digging into his shoulders. Neil is now contorting, moving so that there’s space on his bed. 

“Sit with me. Come here,” He says. If Todd were to read into it he would think Neil almost sounds shy in this suggestion. 

Without thinking, Todd slips under the covers, his leg slightly overlapping Neil’s. Neil leans his head closer to Todds, and pulls the book into both of their views. 

“Thank you for lending this to me. I- I didn’t know that even back then, people were… they were…” Neil fumbles for the words. 

“Like us?” Todd speaks up for the first time all afternoon, and his voice cracks. 

Neil grins, “Yeah.”

  
  
“What part did you want to show me?” 

“Oh. It’s beautiful. He writes _I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning, How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn’d over upon me, And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart, And reach’d till you felt my beard, and reach’d till you held my feet._ Isn’t that just… gorgeous?” 

Todd had read somewhere, ages ago, that language is kissing. That a person’s soul meets your lips when you utter their name. It’s silly of him, but hearing Neil read so tenderly, it feels like a kiss.

  
  
“It is,” Todd says softly, “You should read some more to me.”

  
  
“Oh really? What’ll you do for me if I do?”

  
  
Todd can’t help but blush at this, and Neil, realizing the double meaning of what he’s uttered, giggles. 

“I-I didn’t mean it like that, silly,” Neil continues, smiling. 

They’ve both sunk back onto the bed in laughter, and before Todd knows it his head is resting on Neil’s chest and he can hear the remnants of laughter reverberating. For a moment, Neil is still, until he tentatively runs a hand through Todd’s hair. 

“Just keep reading to me and I’ll forgive you.”  
  


* * *

It’s Sunday night and Neil is pacing around the room, reading lines in a voice barely above a murmur. His steps are light and if Todd didn’t know better he’d think that Neil was focused, intent. But he knows Neil, and he knows by the way he’s acting that rehearsal did _not_ go well. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Neil shakes his head and stops pacing for a minute. Todd takes his earphones out and stands, tilting his head so that Neil will have to meet his eyes. He’s hazy eyed and sullen. It hurts seeing him like this. It’s almost like he’s seeing bits of himself reflected back. 

“Hey. Come back to me. What’s going on?” 

“They said I wasn’t convincing enough. That I didn’t act _in love_ enough. I don’t know, I just… what if me being gay means I can’t act like I’m in love? I can barely be myself, and you know what my dad said. One more play to prove myself, or it’s medical school. What if I-”

  
  
“Neil. You’re good enough, I promise. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone,” Todd rests a hand on Neil’s shoulder. 

“I-It’s silly. You’re right. I just need to practice.”

  
  
Neil attempts a smile, but it’s vacant. Todd knows this isn’t the end of the conversation, but he decides to drop it for now. He knows how hard it is, to feel inauthentic. Faulty. But maybe he’s just projecting. All he knows is he’s tired of it, and he knows Neil is too. 

“Okay,” Todd says, removing his hand, “Do you want me to help you practice?”

  
  
“Oh, um… sure. Are you okay with being Juliet? Just for this scene, I mean. It’s the one we did at rehearsal today.” 

“Sure. You wanna give me your copy, so I can quiz you?” 

“Of course,” Neil smiles a bit at this, “What would I do without you, my own personal line reader?” 

“I don’t know, probably get a better line reader.”

  
  
“Oh shut it, you’re practically an actor.”

  
  
“Whatever you say, Neil,” Todd rolls his eyes playfully, “Now say your line.”

Neil takes his hand, and Todd jumps a bit at the unexpected warmth. 

“Sorry, it’s in the stage directions,” Neil points to the page, and Todd silently thanks Shakespare for the divine intervention. He nods at Neil to go on. 

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” 

He’s good. He’s really good, and Todd can barely think about how bullshit it was that he got bad notes because Neil is looking at him intently, moving closer. He wishes he could stay in this moment of constructed love, but reluctantly he responds. 

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this, for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.” 

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” Neil responds softly, smirking. 

“Ay pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

  
  
“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” 

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.”

“Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take… I don’t know what comes next,” Neil mumbles, looking down at his shoes. 

“You’re supposed to kiss me. Uh, Juliet, I mean.”

  
  
“ _Oh._ ” 

It’s quiet for a moment as Todd looks at Neil. The moon is reflecting through the window, casting light on his mouth.

  
  
“Like this,” Todd says this without thinking, and before he takes this in, he’s surprising himself again by leaning in and pressing his lips against Neil’s. 

It’s brief, and beautiful, and all of the things that great poets write about, and when his brain has caught up with his body he pulls back, panicking. 

Neil is standing there, dazed. Not saying anything. 

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I just did that, I didn’t even ask and-“ 

“Todd,” Neil cuts him off, and reaches up to touch his cheek, “It’s okay. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” 

“Y-You wanted me to kiss you?” 

“Yes. God yes. Can I kiss you again?” 

Todd nods, and before he can fully process what’s just happened, Neil’s lips are on his again. No amount of daydreams could’ve prepared him for reality. It’s so much… warmer than he’d expected. He’s never kissed a boy before. Not like this. 

They’re stumbling around, and his hand reaches out against the bed as they tumble onto the pillows. 

His hands are in Neil’s hair and he’s shocked when he slips a tongue in Todd’s mouth. They’re like this for what feels like an eternity, then suddenly Neil is on top of him and tugging at the end of his shirt, his fingers about to inch under the fabric. 

Neil pulls back, “Is this okay?”

  
  
And Todd panics, because he so badly wants it to be okay, but he knows that he can’t do this without telling him first. His breathing quickens and he sits up a bit, looking down at the bed. 

“Todd, I’m sorry. We can take a break, or stop. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Neil moves to get off of the bed, but Todd grabs his arm. 

  
“I want you to… it’s just. I-I have to. I’ve never um-”

  
  
“Done this before? Me either, Todd. We can take our time. We don’t even have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

  
  
“No, it’s not that. I mean, yes, I’ve never done this either. And I’m so glad it’s you. But I have to tell you something. It’s, um… I’ve not told many people before…” He trails off. 

“Take your time,” Neil says, grabbing hold of his hand. 

“So, I’ve wanted to share this with you for so long. I was just scared. I still am, because I don’t know what it’ll mean. Especially now that this is happening, whatever it is. It’s okay if it means you don’t want to kiss me anymore, I’d understand. But, um, I’m trans. No one here knows, besides Nolan and the nurse. That’s why I didn’t go to Welton until this year. It probably makes a lot of things make more sense.”

  
  
“Oh, Todd,” Neil thumb makes circles on Todd’s palm, “It’s okay. Thank you so much for telling me. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been, not being able to talk about it. I need you to know that this doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

  
“It doesn’t?” Todd’s voice is small. 

“Of course not. You’re the same Todd I’ve always known. The same Todd I want to kiss.” 

Todd blushes, “I still can’t believe I did that.”

  
  
“I’m glad you did. I thought you didn’t like me,” Neil says, lying down next to Todd. 

“How could I not? You’re Neil.”

  
  
Neil laughs at this, and Todd can’t help but kiss him again. When he pulls away, Neil is smiling. 

“I’m so happy that you told me. You’re right, it makes a lot more sense why you wait till midnight to shower.”

  
  
“Yeah, it really sucks.”

  
  
“Well now that you have a strapping young boyfriend, I can keep watch while you’re in there.”

  
  
“Boyfriend?” Todd raises an eyebrow. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. There goes me assuming again. Do you want to be, you know, boyfriends?” 

“Lemme think about it,” Todd waits a couple seconds, “Oh sure, I guess I have nothing better to do.”

  
  
He’s giddy with happiness. They both are. They know that eventually they’ll have to tell the other boys, and talk more about what this means, but right now all they can do is laugh over how long it took for them to come to their senses.

Todd thinks he understands now, what Whitman meant when he wrote about a bare-stript heart. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi all! 
> 
> thank you for reading! i hope you liked it! if you did, feel free to leave a comment, or message me on tumblr! i'm tellmewhytheyswoon.tumblr.com 
> 
> the works referenced are as follows: 
> 
> angels in america by tony kushner  
> song of myself by walt whitman  
> water by the spoonful by quiara alegria hudes  
> autopainophile by joshua jennifer espinoza  
> romeo and juliet by shakespare (lol)


End file.
